r already existing interest. No
one except an art-critic sees a new picture or statue without first
asking "What does it represent?"; shape-perception and aesthetic
empathy arising incidentally in the examination which this question
leads to. The truth is that even the art-critic is oftenest brought into
enforced contemplation of the artistic shape by some other question
which arises from his particular bias: By whom? of what precise
date? Even such technical questions as "where and when restored or
repainted?" will elicit the necessary output of attention. It is possible
and legitimate to be interested in a work of art for a dozen reasons
besides aesthetic appreciation; each of these interests has its own
sentimental, scientific, dramatic or even moneymaking emotion; and
there is no loss for art, but rather a gain, if we fall back upon one of
them when the specific aesthetic response is slow or not
forthcoming. Art has other aims besides aesthetic satisfaction; and
aesthetic satisfaction will not come any the quicker for turning our
backs upon these non-aesthetic aims. The very worst attitude
towards art is that of the holiday-maker who comes into its presence
with no ulterior interest or business, and nothing but the hope of an
aesthetic emotion which is most often denied him. Indeed such
seeking of aesthetic pleasure for its own sake would lead to even
more of the blank despondency characteristic of so many gallery
goers, were it not for another peculiarity of aesthetic responsiveness,
which is responsible for very puzzling effects. This saving grace of
the tourist, and (as we shall see) this pitfall of the art-expert, is what
I propose to call the _Transferability of Aesthetic Emotion._

CHAPTER XIX

THE STORAGE AND TRANSFER OF EMOTION

IN dealing with familiarity as a multiplying factor of aesthetic
appreciation, I have laid stress on its effect in facilitating the
perception and the empathic interpretation of shapes. But repetition
directly affects the emotion which may result from these processes;
and when any emotion has become habitual, it tends to be stored in
what we call memory, and to be called forth not merely by the
processes in which it originated, but also independently of the whole
of them, or in answer to some common or equivalent factor. We are
so accustomed to this psychological fact that we do not usually seem
to recognise its existence. It is the explanation of the power of words,
which, a